Damaged Hero
by AlidaHush
Summary: Post Damage. What you think you know, you don't even begin to understand.
1. Damage

Chapter One

"Damage"

"She's just an innocent victim." Angel said, hands still stuck in his pockets. He always did that. Whenever he didn't know what else to do with them. He put them in his pockets and balled them into fists. Spike could see it. He didn't know what to do with his hands...

Spike didn't know what to do with his either.

"So were we, once upon a time." Spike replied, glancing at his arms. He hated the way they looked. Feeble. Broken. So, he looked back at his sire. Feeble. Broken.

Angel nodded briefly, sighing. "Once upon a time." he said thoughtfully, hands still stuffed into his pockets. Spike had the sudden urge to reach out and grab his wrists and wrench them free. But even just the thought brought a wave of sadness over him.

_Pillock..._

Spike sighed heavily and shifted, breaking the silence. He was restless. He wanted out. For a fleeting moment, he thought of asking Angel to help him. But he couldn't bear the loss of dignity. He had already bruised it enough for one night. _Why wont the wanker just leave? _Spike wondered inwardly. Why was Angel still standing there? What was he expecting?

But what happened next was something Spike was totally unprepared for. Angel took two measured steps toward the bed and cautiously looked down at Spike's hands.

"You...uh...you wanna get outta here?" Angel asked, quietly, looking around the room uneasily. Spike cocked an eyebrow and glanced down at his bandaged hands. With a scoff and a chuckle, he turned his head away from Angel.

"Wanker..." Spike sighed, wishing he could cross his arms over his chest. Angel rolled his eyes upward to stare at the ceiling.

"Spike, I'm offering to help. I know you. The minute I go, you're gonna try to leave anyway. So, let's save us both the humiliation and call it a night." Angel sighed, loosing his patience. He finally took his hands out of his pockets and crossed them over his chest. Spike felt a pang of jealously.

_Pillock..._


	2. Penthouse

Chapter Two

"Penthouse"

"Spike, take it easy, you're fine." Angel said, bracing his hand against Spike's back. It felt oddly warm. Angel wondered, for a moment, if it was the drugs. He'd never had the pleasure of knowing what morphine felt like. Spike wavered on his feet, clutching at the wall with his useless left hand.

It was only 1 in the morning. Spike had been asleep for hours. Angel heard him get up and when he came to see if the vampire was alright, he found him on the floor, cold dreams plaguing his mind.

"Gotta get out..." he said feverishly, eyelids half closed in a drunken stupor. He slipped again and Angel pressed his fingers into his spine, keeping him upright.

"Spike, you're gonna hurt yourself..." he tried, feeling the younger vampire tremble beneath him. Spike convulsed slightly and began sliding down the wall.

"Gotta...stop her..." he whispered, sweat dripping down his neck. Angel wasn't aware that vampires could get sick, but Spike looked like shit. He thought about calling Fred. Or, hell, even the med team. He didn't care. He needed Spike to calm down.

Again, Spike convulsed. It was halfway between a shiver and a tremble. This time he closed his eyes fully and slumped slowly into Angel's arms. Angel reached carefully around the vampire and hugged him close, shifting him the two feet onto the bed.

_Note to self: Ask Fred why Spike has a fever._

It took a moment of maneuvering, but once Spike was back on the bed, he didn't move for several minutes. And when he did, it was only a twitch.

As soon as Angel was sure Spike was asleep, he stepped back into the darkness and sighed in relief, rubbing his fingers over his face. He glanced back at his childe through

the darkness and saw that he was glistening with sweat. Every now and then, his hands would twitch and his head would follow. Angel wondered if it was his nerves. Severed nerves knitting back together painfully.

He shook his head and padded to the bathroom, flipping on the light and blinking at it's brightness. After splashing a good amount of water on his face, he leaned against the wall, soft terry clothe in his hands. He closed his eyes, wishing he could sleep. But he knew that the moment he fell asleep, he would wake up, worried about Spike. _Worried about Spike. Now there's a new and repulsive turn of emotion._ Angel thought, rubbing the terry over his face. It made him want to beat his head against the wall until his mind was devoid of all emotion. Until the only thing he could feel was stone-cold hatred for the creature his Dru had created years ago.

And yet, there he stood. Wrapped in his own guilt and worry and history. He was too guilty to sleep. To worried to leave him in the hospital. To familiar with who William was to leave him alone. _Too much emotion, Liam. Way too much emotion._


	3. Fever

Chapter Three

"Fever"

"Fred, could I see you for a minute?" Angel asked, pressing the little black button on his phone with his forefinger. He tapped a stack of papers so that each leaf fell into place. He did it a few more times before he realized how horribly tired he was.

"Angel?" Fred asked, stepping into his office cautiously. "Um...did they release Spike? He's not there and I-" she motioned with her thumb, jabbing it towards the lobby.

"He's in my penthouse."

Fred's eyes went wide slightly. "Oh...ok..."

Angel glanced up from his desk to see a look of shock and slight terror on her face. He sighed, realizing what she must think.

"No. It's not like that. It's..." he couldn't find the words. "It's Spike." He managed, placing his hands on his hips. Fred cocked an eyebrow and shrugged.

"Okay..."

"He's restless." Angel walked out from behind his desk, still trying to find the right words. Fred was still lost, but Angel paid no mind. "The minute he got a chance, he'd try to leave on his own. And that, in itself, would be embarrassing."

"For him?"

"No. For me." Angel admitted, pressing fingers to the bridge of his nose.

There was a long pause. Angel looked up to see Fred still standing, a look of worry and concern on her face. She was still lost.

"Look, I just-"

"No, you don't have to explain, Angel. It's O.K. You do what you have to do." she said quickly, clearly trying not delve any deeper into the subject than necessary. Angel nodded and put a hand in his pocket. Fred shifted.

"So! What was with the urgenty message?" she asked, mock chipper trying to glaze over the proverbial rotten cake. Angel nodded quickly and walked back behind his desk. He scratched his forehead and then put both hands in his pockets. He was nervous again. Unsure.

"Uh...last night," he began, watching Fred sit on the arm of the red office chair. "Last night when I went and got Spike..." he stopped, unsure of how to go on. _What do I say?_

"Angel?"

"Can vampires get sick?" Angel blurted out suddenly, looking away from Fred. She narrowed her brow and stood up.

"What? Can...you don't feel well?" Fred asked, taking a step closer, concern written all over her face. Angel shook his head quickly.

"No, no. Not me. Um...Spike. He's got a fever or something."

"A fever?"

"Yeah. Last night..."

"Oh. Angel, it's just all the medication. They pumped so many drugs into him yesterday, I'd be surprised if there was any room left for blood." she said, trying to sound upbeat. Angel just looked down at his desk and nodded.

"I can get someone to go look-"

"No. That's alright. He'll be fine, right?"

"Yeah." she nodded, smiling weakly. "If he heals as fast as he talks, he should be back to normal in no time." Angel smirked at that. He had to admit, it was true.

"Thanks, Fred." Angel replied, watching Fred turn and leave. Just as she reached the door, she turned back with an encouraging smile.

"Angel...he'll be fine." she said softly, trying on the smile again. All Angel could manage was a weak nod. And as soon as she was gone, he sighed and sat down in the oversized leather chair.


	4. Champion

Chapter Four

"Champion"

Angel walked down the hall toward his office, eyes travelling over the papers stacked in his hands, Three cases, four murder victims, and one lawyer he had to have Lorne read. Wonderful. _Another really long list..._

"I need to get more sleep." Angel sighed, letting the stack of papers he had been reading drop to his side. He ran a hand down his face. It was true, he hadn't slept in days. Not since..._ Not since Spike._

He sighed again, opening the door to his office and walking into the darkened room. As he dropped the papers down on his desk, he saw movement off to his right. Quickly, he reached out and flipped on the desk light.

"Eve." he said, voice stone cold, eyes starring at the little blonde on his couch. He had to say, he wasn't exactly surprised. He really had no desire to deal with her right now. Or anytime for that matter. "What do you want? My office hours are-"

"I know your hours Angel. I just came to tell you that you might want to check on Spike." she said, standing and smiling slightly.

"Spike? He's fine. He's-"

"In your penthouse. I know. The Shaman's are reading high levels of stress from your end of the building. I'm just saying-"

"Yeah, what did you want from me again?" Angel asked, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows. "Somehow I doubt this little chat is really about Spike."

"Spike's now an asset to this firm. Anything should happen to the newest Champion..."

"Get out." Angel ordered. _I really hate that word._

"Look, all I'm saying is, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to take him away so soon."

"I can look after Spike. I've had pets before." he replied coldly. Eve smiled slightly and nodded.

"Just trying to look out for the Cham-"

"Get _out_." Angel snarled, a growl growing in his throat. Eve's eyes widened slightly. Just enough for Angel to know he scared her. But she smoothed it all over with a casual nod.

"You got it, Boss." she replied, giving him a little wave and closing the door behind her.

_I really hate that word..._


	5. Morphine

Chapter Five

"Morphine"

The penthouse was dark and silent. For a minute, Angel was almost worried. Spike still was asleep? It was 9pm. _His spidey-sense should be tingling. _Sighing heavily, he took off his blazer and draped it over one of the couches near by. He was about to sit down when he heard a low moan coming from across the room.

He looked up and squinted through the darkness. Even with vampire vision, it was still inky black. He took a deep breathe and pushed it back out through his lips. It sighed and died away in the silence. Angel stepped forward so that he was well within view of his over-sized bed.

Spike was lying completely still, exactly where Angel had laid him hours ago. The only indication that he had moved was the rumpled sheets beside him. Angel sensed that he was awake. But only just barely.

He took measured steps toward the bed, careful not to frighten Spike. _This emotion thing has got to stop, _Angel thought helplessly. His legs suddenly began taking him places he wasn't telling them to go.

Spike's face was illuminated by the moonlight shining through the blinds. It lit up one side of his face so that Angel could see the sharp angle of his cheekbone. There was nothing sexual about Spike right now. He wasn't cocky, or rude or...hell, even close to Spike at all. And Angel felt a sudden stab of guilt run through him. There was definitely something wrong in the world if Spike looked so helpless.

Spike moaned unconsciously, shifting his legs beneath the sheets. Angel took another step closer, noticing the bandages around Spike's hands as if for the first time. He stared down at the starch white clothe covering the wounds around his arms. Another stab of guilt. _Helping the helpless... _Angel thought sadly, rubbing his hands over his face again. He was just so tired...Tired of Wolfram & Hart, tired of making the hard decisions. Tired of just being there. He couldn't count how many times he wished things were simpler. And now he wished more than anything that he knew what the hell to do with Spike. In a few weeks, he would be alright. He would be rude, and selfish and moronic. But right now? Right now things were complicated. And Angel was tired...

Closing his eyes, he began to turn away. But, when he heard the sounds of movement again, he took another step toward Spike instead.

"I's not right..." Spike mumbled, brow knit in...concentration? Confusion? He was still drenched in sweat. Still tossing with dreams. Angel knew about dreams. He had far too many. Most of them were nightmares.

With fleeting thoughts racing through his head, Angel reached out his hand gently and placed it on the young vampire's forehead, feeling the heat and sweat warm his palm. Spike shifted, murmuring about ghosts and demons. After a brief inner struggle, Spike opened his eyes. The blue shone like sapphire in the slits of moonlight.

It took him a moment to realize who was there, but when he did, he squinted and flinched away from Angel's hand.

"Angel?"

"Yeah..." Angel quickly withdrew his hand and shoved it deep into his pocket, trying so hard not to look at Spike. But it was hard. It was so hard because Spike sighed in pain and sank back down into the bed.

"You git..." he sighed, shifting in obvious pain.

"What?" Angel asked, looking at his childe through the moonlight. Spike shook his head and furrowed his brow.

"This was your idea." he moaned, closing his eyes again. Suddenly, it hit Angel, full force. The drugs. _The morphine wore off. Hours ago._

He had taken a supply with him when he left the hospital wing earlier. He was no pro at administering it, but he took it anyway. It was better than watching him struggle with nurses. Spike might hate him, but Angel was the only thing Spike knew right now. Angel decided that maybe Spike would trust him. Even if it was only for a moment.

With one last look at the keening vampire, Angel quickly retrieved a vile of the clear liquid and filled a syringe. He had only done this once before. To Drusilla. But he hated to think of that time. It was the time of Angelus. A time not worth mentioning at all...

When Angel returned to the bed, Spike was wide awake, trying, in vain, to sit up slightly.

"Hey...don't, Spike." Angel set the syringe down on the bedside table and reached out to help him. Spike suddenly recoiled, cracking his head on the headboard painfully. But he didn't flinch from the pain. He just furrowed his brow at Angel and took a deep breathe.

"What are you doin'?" Spike asked, looking at Angel's hands and then back at his face. Angel rolled his eyes slightly and reached out again. This time, Spike let him gently take him by the sides and shift him back into a sitting position. Spike's look of confusion and worry was enough to make Angel want to run away.

"I'm not gonna to hurt you." Angel reassured him. Although, he really wasn't sure if it was going to do any good.

"Heard that one before." Spike mumbled, glancing at the bedside table. He cocked an eyebrow slightly. Angel followed his gaze and sighed.

"I promise."

And in one swift motion, he lifted the syringe, tested it and curled back Spike's sleeve slightly. The needle bit into his arm, but Angel was sure he couldn't feel it.

"Wha's with the change a heart?" Spike asked as Angel withdrew the needle and stood up. Angel reached the door before turning back to answer him.

"Get some sleep Spike." he said softly, preparing to close the sliding dividers.

Spike shifted again.

"Thought you hated me?"

Angel turned his head to see the vampire's arms limp at his sides, pain still etched into his face. The sweat was still beaded on his face and soaked into the sheets. Angel felt that pang of guilt again.

"I do." Angel lied, moving the divider and enjoying the 'thump' it made as it closed.


End file.
